Definitely Not Gay (Harringrove)

Hump

Billy

He's properly drunk now. Slow and clingy.

It takes me a bit longer to get drunk because of the alcohol tolerance I've built up, but I've gotten pretty tipsy now.

He grabs my shoulders. "Can we fuck now? If we wait too long, I'll be sober again."

I smile and push him into a barstool, letting him fall in the seat. I down the shot of vodka I'm holding.

He clumsily fills up his shot glass, spilling more on the counter than in the drink. He flicks his head back, gulping down the alcohol.

"Hot," I say, grinning.

He licks his lips, eyeing me dangerously. I like this Steve. He refills our drinks.

We lock elbows, shot glasses in hand.

"3, 2, 1," he says. We inhale our vodka.

He drops his glass in midair and throws his arms up. "I win!"

The glass shatters on the floor, but he doesn't even flinch.

"Shit, Steve, don't move." The ground under him is littered with shards of glass.

I put my glass on the counter and cork the bottle.

"I'm gonna pick you up, okay?" I suddenly feel very sober, having to be the levelheaded one.

I put my foot on the rung of the barstool, where there's no glass shards. I place my palm on his back and slide my hand under his thighs. I lift him, which is as not as easy as it looks, since he's a deadweight, being drunk.

He turns around in my arms, eventually hugging me with both his arms and legs. He's hanging on like a sloth. He nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck. I hug him close as I carefully make my way through the minefield in the kitchen.

I stumble to the couch and drop him roughly. Damn, if I didn't work out, I don't think I would have been able to carry him.

"C'mere," he says, grabbing my shirt and tugging me down on top of him.

Safe on the couch, I allow myself to fall under the effect of the alcohol. I take a deep breath and inhale Steve. Him, his house, his clothes I'm wearing. I hope his scent lingers on me when I have to leave in the morning.

He starts rolling his hips, breathing in a steady pattern.

"The fuck are you doing?" I ask.

"Shh.."

I bite his ear and whisper, "Please don't tell me you're trying to dry hump me."

He smiles. "What, wanna wet hump?"

"Hell yeah. What's the alcohol for?"

He holds up his arms, waiting for me to take off his shirt. I do. He slowly pulls off mine, dragging his tongue up my middle along with it. He plants a kiss in between my collar bones and slides the sweater over my head, tossing it carelessly on the floor.

He shoves me away. I land on my ass, watching him crawl towards me. He grabs my foot, takes my sock in his teeth, and rips it off. He does the same to the other. Holy fuck, I never thought Steve would be this kinky.

He pulls of his socks, pants, and boxers in the blink of an eye. I am staring at King Steve Harrington in all his full glory. He wasn't made in god's image. God could never compete.

His body is loose and comfortable from
the vodka. I can see the muscles in his shoulders. His pecs are rising and falling from the heaving of his breath. His skin is flushed and blotchy red. His stomach is toned, but soft. And... oh.

Oh.

Oh.

I can't tear my eyes away. It's so fucking perfect. I want to reach out and grab it, but I don't because all I can do is stare.

I cannot believe I am staring at a man's dick and thinking about it in my mouth. I'm no fag, but everyone experiments, right?

This is probably the only time I'll catch him like this. So unashamedly exposed.

Blame it on the alcohol. I'm already this far in, I might as well finish. I'll never do it again anyways.

I spread out the blankets on the couch, watching Steve throw his head back and pant.

I slip out of my sweatpants, but I don't have any underwear to take off since I'm commando tonight.

I pull my hair out of the ponytail Steve put it in earlier, and watch as his eyes trail down my body.

I lie on the couch, arms outstretched towards him. He happily complies, looking at my cock and not my eyes.

He brings his calves down on mine, then his knees. He holds my shoulders and slowly lowers himself onto me. His chest meets mine. Our dicks touch and twitch at the same time. I can feel the pre cum on his knob, and I know mine is like that, too. But all I can process is him on me. He flattens himself out. Our bodies are touching as much as they possibly can.

He starts sucking on my skin in different spots, never long enough to leave a real mark. He's eager. I wrap my legs around his and grind up against him. He stops what he's doing and lets out a deep sigh.

"Mm, Billy, don't stop."

I smile. I can feel his weight on my pelvis as he humps me back. My dick feels tight.

He sits up, bends over, and takes my entire cock in his mouth. My foot spasms. He sucks it worse than a hickey. He bobs his head, up and down. I dig my nails into the side of the couch.

"Holy fuck, Steve!" I grind into his mouth, groaning at scream volume.

I am fully erected now, beating my record time with any girl.

He lightly grazes his teeth on my dick, slowly trailing up and down it at an excruciating pace.

"Gah!" I gasp out. I can feel him smiling on my boner.

"Fuck, you're enjoying this, aren't you Harrington?"

"Mm," he hums, shooting butterflies into my stomach.

Right as I'm about to climax, a feminine voice catches me off guard. "Steve, what the fuck?!"

We freeze and make frantic eye contact. His mouth is still around my cock. We slowly turn towards the uninvited voice.

"You left the door unlocked, asshole. If you were gonna have gay sex, maybe check the locks."